A colour bringing memories of days long passed.
Of blushes, brushes of skin, smiles and laughs.
Of almosts, could-have-beens, should-have-beens and would-have-beens,
Of staring from across the room and yearning a stare back.
A colour, warm, with flashes of scenes
That repeat themselves in dreams alone.
A colour, beautiful, though bland before
That was thought to forever be despised.
This colour, hazel, a calming storm.
This colour of your eyes.
- p. winter
